The New Year was nearing, just a few hours of 2023 remained and I had prepared some snacks for the evening as I continued to reminisce on my second meeting with Emma, smiling to myself at the memories from all those years ago, waking in the early hours of New Year's Eve in her bed after a night reacquainting ourselves after our one-off encounter months before. It was a sweet memory...
I felt her stir. I had no idea what time it was, her gentle breathing had lulled me to sleep after I had carried her to bed. She turned to be on her back and then sat up and I saw her looking around and then down to me.
"How?" she mumbled.
"I put you to bed." I answered, figuring that was the question.
"How?"
"I carried you from the sofa." There was a little murmur from her.
"Who are you?" she giggled.
"The guy who carried you to bed."
"Oh, THAT guy." she laughed softly. "Want to carry me to the toilet?"
"You're on your own now." I said, lifting my head to look at her. The robe had dropped open and one breast was visible in the light that came from the open door as I forgotten to turn it off after taking Emma to bed. The nipple was soft and silhouetted beautifully on the firm breast and I watched as the breast rose and fell as Emma breathed in deeply and the nipple swelled a little to poke out further.
"You can watch." she said quietly. It was a good offer.
I didn't carry Emma, just helped her, her hand around my waist and mine around hers as she walked slowly to the toilet. "My legs are still asleep." she had giggled as she had stood next to the bed and promptly slumped back down again. She sat on the toilet and I heard the splash and then knelt down and she opened her legs wider to give me a better view. I had never seen a woman urinate before this night and now I was seeing close up. I looked up and there was a blush on Emma's cheek, but she smiled at me as she continued to relieve herself. She finished and I watched a drop fall from her lip and she reached for the paper and then handed it to me and giggled. I moved to kneel next to her hip and she guided my hand down and I wiped her. Then she turned her head and kissed me so gently. "Your turn?" she whispered and I nodded.
I went to sit, but Emma objected and laughed. "I want to watch now" she said and I suddenly felt very shy. She saw my blush and put her arms around me and then reached down to help me slide my underwear lower and her hand went around my flaccid penis and she rested her head against me, her soft breath calming me and I relaxed and my urine mixed with hers in the bowl. We washed our hands and I helped her walk back to bed and she slumped down again.
"Funny, such a normal thing and I've never seen or... been seen until tonight." she sighed.
"Me too, you are the first to see as well." I said and she turned to look at me and I saw the sparkle of her dark eyes in the gloom.
"Thank you." she whispered and I had no clue what for, so asked and she chuckled. "Where to start?" and then she turned to look up and a hush descended for a few moments. "Do you mean all those nice things you say about me?" she said quietly, the after-midnight hour making everything quiet.
"Yes, totally." I whispered as I snuggled closer.
"Thank you. I mean, you don't have to, didn't have to, I was a sure thing. Still am." she chuckled. "For now." she added and then went quiet for another few moments and then turned and our lips found each other and my tongue flicked over hers and she sucked on it gently.
"How many pussies has that tongue licked, young man?" she said with a little chuckle.
"Not many." I replied and thought for a moment. Her eyes were on mine and I knew there was no escape. "Six before you., but one I didn't lick." I saw her eyes flash wide. "Pretty rubbish really."
"Wow, seriously, I thought it would be in triple figures."
I laughed, too loudly, maybe. "One did last for eight years, but you forget how terrible I am with woman." I said and she laughed.
"Yes, you are terrible, I mean, not as if you had to carry one to bed as she was totally out of it after being with you." she laughed.
"Yeah, but it's the actual talking to them bit. I normally try to think of something to say and then watch as someone else walks over and whisks them away." I felt her hand find mine and squeeze.
"So, I was number seven?" she asked. "And nine?"
I chuckled. "Yeah, if you use that strange counting method."
"Those are good odd numbers." she said quietly. "Any really bad experiences, or great ones?" she asked and the sparkly eyes were on me again.
"No bad ones, I mean, If I get to the naked stage, it's always good for me." I laughed.
"For her too I imagine, speaking from experience." Emma added.
"There a long distance one that was... frustrating, I guess. My trip coincided with her period, so..."
"Details, man, details." she laughed.
"Ok, she went down on me and I stroked her clit through her knickers and we continued to just do that for the first few days. She took me to see some tourist things, usual things for a holiday and we kissed and stuff, then more of her blowing me and me..."
"Did you get to the naked stage at all?" she said with a little chuckle.
"Yes," I blushed as I spoke. "The last day she felt bad, so let me in her bum."
"Well, that's pretty good compensation." she laughed.
"Yeah, but... We stayed in touch for a while, but it just fizzled out before we got to meet again so I didn't get to lick her." I sighed thinking of that crazy trip and Emma squeezed my hand.
"Oh. But, I mean, you got naked. And I bet she enjoyed being wanked." Emma chuckled.
"Oh boy, she was VERY loud!" I laughed. "The person in the neighbouring flat banged on the wall."
"SERIOUSLY! Holy.... wow, a noise complaint, that is a gold star." Emma laughed and then went quiet. "Jesus, I hope no one heard that last one." she said.
"Someone from the next street came by to check on you when you were sleeping." I said quietly and she laughed loudly.
"Good experiences, well, there was a wonderful woman I met on a train..." and she laughed and shook her head.
We snuggled up, waking slightly now after our snooze and my hand stroked over her body, feeling her toned, flat belly and then brushing through the curls.
"It's a bit of a jungle down there, sorry." she mumbled. "I thought of trimming, but..." The quiet was noticeable due to the suddenness of it and the heaviness. "Ok." she breathed in deeply. "The guy who liked to experiment. Gary, the freak." she breathed deeply again. "We were together several years, he was the second one and I was a bit broken and he was lovely at first. He encouraged me to be braver, wear sexy underwear, that kind of thing. He was good to me and I felt safe. We lived together and it was fine..." she trailed off and stared at the ceiling. "He went from encouraging to... pushing. I liked to wear nice little summer dresses when the weather was good, He wanted me to wear them without underwear. I sometimes went without a bra as, back then, my tits were pretty good."
"They still are." I added and she chuckled.
"But he wanted no underwear at all and I wasn't comfortable. He also wanted me to wear shorter dresses and skimpy underwear, thongs, so people could see. It wasn't me, but I did a few times and just felt so... cheap, maybe. I was happy in a bikini on the beach, but he wanted smaller ones, he wanted guys to be able to see me. he joked about guys wanking over the sight of my tits and bum. It was ok, but didn't sit right with me. I resisted, sticking with my normal bikini and trying a slightly smaller one now and then, but eventually deciding to avoid going to the beach with him. He also wanted me to go topless on the beach. It was odd, he wanted others to want me... and it went deeper. He wanted to explore more." Emma continued to stare at the ceiling and took several deep breaths.
"One day, he was away, visiting one of his parents, he had said. Anyway, I was getting stuff ready to be cleaned, the weather had turned warm and I gathered the winter coats to take to the cleaners as usual. I checked the pockets on his and found a letter. It was addressed to a PO box and I was really confused. I read it and felt sick. It was about a swingers magazine he had adverts in and it was from a guy who wanted to do a swap... or, well, basically, they were discussing offering their partners to others. He had said in the past about wife swaps, adding that if we said we were married it would make guys want me more, want to have someone else's 'property' he said. Anyway, this guy and him were planning to get their partners attended to, shall we say, by others, lot of others."
"How? I mean, did you want to do this?" I asked quietly, her eyes not moving from the ceiling.